Blue Devils

An acquaintance of mine sent me some pictures today that she took two or three years ago. As I thumbed through them, I came across a lot of good memories. Memories that unexpectedly stung like a whiplash. Miles, much younger-looking and at least fifty pounds lighter, without two years of beer-drinking and broken heart. Zoe, smiling sarcastically but without any bitterness. Jacob, as usual, showing off -- but it seemed so innocent back then.

They sting the most because those people were then who they are now. All the seeds of all the troubles of the last few years were already there, just waiting for the right amount of rain and sun. It was the best time of my life, but it was already broken beyond repair.

I couldn't have known then, and I'm glad I didn't. I probably would never have become friends with Miles or Jacob if I'd known their particular flaws ahead of time, but both of them have changed me, and I wouldn't go back to being who I was before. Miles especially - I never would have learned so much about myself if he hadn't been able to see so clearly and easily through my defenses. And Jacob has told me so many true things - it's just too bad he doesn't live by them.

For a long time now, all I've seen is the dark side. Jacob, carelessly destroying other people's lives, and Miles, helplessly destroying his own. It makes me wish I didn't care about them, because there's nothing I can do to help. They are who they are, and always have been. But I can't stop caring without forgetting about three years of friendship. Three years of learning and happiness and hoping for the best, even if the best never happened. Three years of learning exactly what it means to love other people; that it means tying a part of your soul to someone is broken, and who will let you down, and leave you with scars. And that scars are a natural byproduct of living and taking risks.

The world is subject to entropy. Everything that ever lived, dies. But is it better to be a stone that never lived at all? Maybe, if there really is no hope. But it seems strange, that such a thing as hope would exist, without there being a reason for it.

Then again, hope was the last thing let out of Pandora's Box. Who's to say it wasn't just the cleverest of the horrors inside?

---

Bluer
Than the blue devils
Bluer than this pale blue angel
Bluer than all of my troubles
Are we gonna leave here strangers

-- Over the Rhine

Emokids

I just saw a 16-year-old, stick-thin, 6' tall, paper-white emokid walk by with his shirt off. I am scarred for life.

Blow WInd and Crack Your Cheeks

Today has been pretty weird so far, and it's not even ten yet. The wind blew all night in harsh, howling gusts through the last few leaves on the trees. I didn't sleep much, and when I did I was plagued by vague images of dark figures in the corners of my room, and nightmares about Roman senators being chopped up and put into trash compactors. I had to get up early this morning, and finished my German essay about five minutes before class, only to have the professor show up late, start to get out his things, and then tell us all he was feeling unwell and that class was canceled. He looked kind of like death warmed over.

I'm not one who really puts much stock in bad omens, but the wind is still howling, and the sky's an angry gray-white. The strap of my bookbag broke last night, too, which if I recall right is also a bad sign. I wonder if it all means anything?

Being Human is Awkward Sometimes

You know that feeling you get sometimes. A member of the opposite sex gets within a certain proximity, and that little part of your brain that never really evolved past the lemur stage goes "Helloooooooo, nurse!"* and dumps a vat of hormones into your bloodstream.

Now, this is a perfectly natural human reaction, hardwired into us to remind us that, yes, that philosophy book may be really interesting, but the world must be peopled.** But when your emotions are kind of screwed up, it can have awkward results.

It would be safe to say that my emotions are fairly screwed up right now. I've spent the last few years unrequitedly in love with my best friend (Jacob's aforementioned roommate), Miles, and I'm trying to break out of it for good. There are a lot of reasons for this, some of which I might go into later, but the most relevant one is that he just isn't interested in me, never has been, and clearly never will be. So, in order to break myself of this unhealthy fixation, I've been trying to avoid him as much as possible, both the actually spending time with him and the thinking about him. This is harder than you might think, as he also lives next door and goes to my school, but I've had a reasonable amount of success.

However, avoiding him has also had some unforeseen side-effects. Living in my little commune, I don't see a whole lot of guys who aren't also part of the group. As long as I was in love with Miles, all of my hormones got dumped every time I saw him (which was pretty often), and he would do things like hug me or compliment me or talk about our lives, all of which fulfilled all kinds of emotional needs I didn't even know I had. I didn't even know those things had much effect on me, until they were gone and I found myself going through emotional/hormonal withdrawal. And now, that little lemur part of my brain is looking for a new outlet wherever it can find one.

This is significantly awkward, because most of my friends are guys. Not only that, they are guys who I have known long enough to know that I have no romantic interest in them. One and all, they are significantly uninteresting as partner material. Unfortunately, I also spend most of my time with them, and a few are what I would call Objectively Hot. Now, Objectively Hot is not a problem when it applies to a guy you see riding his bike down the street with his shirt off. The lemur brain goes "Helloooooo, Nurse!" the hormones are dumped, and it doesn't matter, because he's halfway down the block before you have time to do anything about it. You go about your day. But it's almost winter now, and shirtless bikers are in pretty short supply, so I'm stuck with the people I see every day.

It was bad enough when I caught myself checking out Jacob. I mean, it's a pretty well-established fact that he's Objectively Hot, but I'm also familiar enough with his habits around girls that it's as easy to turn off as it is to turn on. Or that guy at work - I only see him once or twice a week. Where it's gotten awkward lately is with Benjamin.

Now, Ben is a good two years younger than me, and we have sort of a big-sister-little-brother kind of relationship. He's also one of the few guys I know who has ever acted really responsibly in his relationships with women. He's not a romantic by any stretch, but he also doesn't lead girls along or obsess over them, and he's gone through two breakups without giving or getting any more emotional scars than necessary. I would totally let him date my little sister (if I had one), but he's not really interesting to me on any level.

Except the lemur brain, which has decided that it would be cool to dump hormones every time he gets closer than two feet away. Because it has no one else to go after, and the next best candidate is Jacob the Heartbreaker. This wouldn't have been a problem a year or two ago, because Ben used to be afraid to let any girl not directly related to him within ten feet of his person. But he's loosened up a lot since then, so it occasionally happens that we're in kind of close proximity. For example, the first time this happened, a was watching a movie with another friend, and he plops down next to me on the couch.

Lemur Brain: *dumps hormones*
Normal Brain: "WTF?"
(I instinctively recoil and scrunch into a little ball at the far end of the couch)
Ben: "Did I forget to wear deodorant or something?"
Me: "No...uh...it's a scary part of the movie." (Which fortunately it was.)

Unfortunately, this kind of situation has happened more than once now, and I'm afraid Ben will start to have doubts about his hygiene or (worse) ask me if something's wrong. On the other hand, it is just a physical reaction, so hopefully the ol' lemur brain will eventually give up when I don't let it get anywhere. It sure makes life awkward, though.

*Yes, I did just reference Animaniacs. They played a significant role in my formative years.

**Shakespeare also played a significant part. I had a weird childhood.

Cast and Credits

There are probably five or six people who are "main characters" in the story of my life right now. They all either go to school with me, live in or next door to my house, or both. As you may have guessed, Jacob is one of them. I'm sure I will introduce the rest of them within the next few posts, as there is very little which goes on in my life which makes sense without knowing the context of who and what they are.

Sometimes I question the healthiness of this situation. I feel a little like I'm living in a commune cut off from the rest of the world. My relationships are all a bit ingrown, and it shows in different ways with each person. But it's the way things are for now, and there's not much I can do about it before I graduate or my lease runs out. Fortunately, both of those things will happen at the end f this spring.

I'm a little bit terrified of that time, though. I have grown very used to my surroundings here, my home and my friends. Part of me is afraid that I'm just not appreciating it now because it's all so familiar, and that as soon as I leave I'll wish I hadn't. This is probably true, but in some ways it's also another good reason to leave. Right now, it's like I've gotten sick of ice cream from eating it every day. Better never to eat it again and at least remember enjoying it, than to make yourself hate something you once loved.

I kind of wish I could just leave now. Having come to the decision that I can't stay, I want to act on it.* And an opportunity may be presenting itself in the near future which will at least get me halfway.

You see, my friend Zoe** lives a several blocks away from my house. She has a roommate who has mentioned wanting to live at my house for various reasons (one of them, I'm pretty sure, being that she doesn't get along terribly well with Zoe). Zoe suggested that perhaps the two of us could switch places; it wouldn't solve any of my problems, but it would definitely make some of them better. And Zoe and I tend to be a good influence on each other, which is a major plus.

Of course, this would require a lot of work. I'd have to pack up everything and move (granted, I don't own all that much and it's not that far, but still). I've always had a single room before, so getting used to having a roommate may provide unforeseen difficulties. And I don't necessarily get on all that well with all of Zoe's other housemates (including her roommate, she lives with four other girls), but then I don't get along with everyone here, either. Zoe's current roommate also has to decide for sure that she wants to switch, and we have to talk to my house manager.

All in all, it's a bit scary and still up in the air, but I really want to do it. It may also make things easier when I finally am not tied down by school and whatnot, and can really get out of here.

*Yes, I'm aware I couldn't really stay after my lease runs out and I graduate, anyway, but one can still try to work around such things. I had to decide whether I would put energy into such a futile pursuit.

**Also one of the cast of main characters.

I Love Pomegranates

They're just so odd-looking, with their apple-like exterior, tough rind, and all those hundreds of ruby seeds, like juice-filled gemstones hidden inside. They also taste good, sweet and tart and a little like cranberries without the bitterness, and they're even tactilely pleasing; popping out the seeds takes just enough effort to be a game, and their juicy-crunchy texture is not quite like anything else. The fruit plays a key role in Greek mythology, and is even thought by some to have been the original Forbidden Fruit (definitely worth losing your soul for, in either case). They're filled with antioxidants and vitamins, and you can make wine out of them. Really, what more could you ask for?

Zebras and Alcoholics

Are you a white horse with black stripes, or a black horse with white?

This is a question I would very much like to ask my friend Jacob, but I'm afraid he wouldn't have a clue what I was talking about. Even if he did, I doubt he'd be able to answer.

You see, Jacob and I have been friends for three or so years. He lived in a house full of college guys next door to my house (which is full of various college-students) for most of that time, and we go to the same school, so we kind of share the same circle of friends. We're probably as close as two people who completely don't understand each other can be.

I remember thinking at one point that Jacob was a good man. Now, that's not a term I apply to people lightly, especially those in the 20-something range, but Jacob seems to fit the bill. He's exceedingly generous, intelligent, and always willing to help out a friend. He has a lot of good stripes.

But he has some bad stripes, too. At least when he's dealing with women. Well, not all women - just ones he's attracted to. I've always had the good fortune to fall outside this group because a) I was madly (if unrequitedly) in love with his roommate and b) he really doesn't like short hair. But with the others (almost all of whom are my friends, too), he's terrible. He adores attention from cute girls, and will do exactly as much as it takes to make sure that their attention stays riveted on him. In return, he gives each individual girl his undivided attention - for as long as she's in the room. As soon as she's gone, he won't talk about her or admit that anything is going on, especially since he's usually got his attention on someone else. He never gives back more than he has to; if a girl follows him around all the time, he just makes sure she's entertained enough to stay. If she seems to be backing off, though, he'll call her or invite her out for coffee (all very platonically), or whatever happens to be the thing that will keep her thinking she's special. He's very, very good at it.

Now, this is all very subtle. He thinks of himself as a very moral person, and as far as I know he doesn't do any of this consciously. If it gets too overt, he might notice what he's up to - but he's also very good at keeping it low enough to stay under his own radar. When it does get straightforward, he's been known to try and stop or even apologize. But then he just does the same thing again, either with the same girl(s) or with new ones.

Is he really sorry, but just really, really good at lying to himself, doing it by habit whether he wants to or not? The times he's caught himself, he did seem genuinely sorry - but only sorry for the results of his actions, not for what he'd done. Like a drunk driver who never meant to hurt anybody.

And what do you do with a friend like that, when you have no way to take away his booze and keys?

Are you a black horse with white stripes, or a white horse with black? Only god knows right now. I hope he revokes your license.